


𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒-𝐃.𝐌 ✪

by lettersformalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hufflepuff, Letters, POV Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Sad Ending, Sad and Happy, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersformalfoy/pseuds/lettersformalfoy
Summary: the SEQUEL to "when the sun dies-d.m".when ophelia du pont dies, draco has a hard time moving on. with the mark on his arm, and her absence, he feels lost, confused, and has no desire to live. though he wants to keep living, but what's living without her?yet, he has a missed a page. a page that was glued shut, a page that was never read..(january 20th 2021-january 23rd 2021).all rights reserved.ALSO POSTED ON WATTPAD
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)





	1. state of mind

a/n: PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU HAVENT READ THE PREQUEL "when the sun dies-d.m". it will make zero sense if you don't. enjoy!

.

DRACO MALFOY WANTED to live like Ophelia lived. Six months had gone by since Ophelia Du Pont's death, and he couldn't help but ponder that the misery he was facing was perhaps a nightmare his subconcious seemed to pull him into. Those six months, those one hundred and eighty days, felt like the light that once illuminated his bulb, seemed to flicker away, and then eventually disappear for eternity. He waited for a long time for the light to come back, to reappear and tell him that he is okay, all he wanted to see, to feel, was light.

He wanted to admire every little thing in the world, getting on the Hogwarts Express, or even packing his clothes; who knew when he would do it again? But he enjoyed the little things everyone considered 'normal', society altered the meaning of life. Though it varied for each person, maybe everyone would be happier if they enjoyed time, rather than wasting it.

But time took its turn, and ruined Draco Malfoy.

He didn't tell Ophelia Du Pont one thing. He never regretted the decision, but now he wished she was here to help him. What would she say? He didn't know. He had known her for such a short of time, but quality of time mattered more than quantity, yet he felt utterly hopeless when he couldn't think of a solution she would agree with. He read her diary, over and over, examining each word, hoping to find clues. Maybe parts of her soul were buried deep within the thin pieces of parchment , he could feel her calm presence around himself when he held the diary. He could feel her arms slowly wrapping him into a warm embrace as happiness and tranquility hovered over his thin figure. 

He missed her. More than anyone could imagine.

He just wished she was here to to help him. 

But one page laid in the very back of the book, only one pair of eyes seemed to have glanced upon it before it glued shut. Perhaps it was glued shut on purpose, maybe those who were worthy enough would find the very last page of Ophelia Du Pont's diary.

Was Draco worthy enough?

Maybe he didn't need her voice.

Maybe he needed her words. Just once more. Just one more time.


	2. the diary

THE DIARY WAS still kept intact, as if no one had touched it all. Viola and Hannah practically cried over the diary, their tears barely touching the parchment as they yelled at Draco furiously for not telling them, he couldn't help but cry. His thoughts were flooded by her words that day, telling him that the brightest stars were Viola and Hannah; he had wished they would've heard it from her firsthand. But he didn't let any of his tears nor the others soil the prized possession.

Ophelia's diary looked like a normal book, brown leathered cover, a small button that enclosed the book, securing it to show the privacy that dominated the blank pages. Now, it was filled with memories, different ones for each occasion. Draco saw them more as letters, he felt as if she had just wrote to him and was expecting him to write back. Did she ever receive the letter he wrote to her a week after her passing? That was a silly question. Of course she didn't.

She was gone.

The dark mark on his forearm stung badly; it reminded him of his fate, one that he could not leave. His heart wrenching reality, one he wished he could run away from. But if he did, death would take him away, and he didn't want that to happen. He wasn't going to let Ophelia down. He was going to live for her no matter what, but all he needed right now was guidance, just her words.

His fingers flipped through the pages, one by one the pages fell on top of another, he didn't know why, but he hoped something of her soul would come out. Something that could possibly help him even if it wasn't direct. His fingernail had gotten caught in one of the pages, he didn't realize the paper had left a small cut, as blood oozed out of his dainty fingers.

Blood spilt onto the pages.

He cursed underneath his breath. No, he couldn't soil those pages, his blood could not cover her writing. However, it was too late, blood inked the page of the dairy, he was frantic at this point, blood dried quickly on paper, there was no going back.

Time was a terrible thing indeed.

Yet something was odd.

Blood seemed to edge in between one of the pages, as if there was something on the other side, as if a page had been glued stuck. That wasn't possible, Ophelia had used up every page in this diary. He had read every single one, he had repeated them in his mind, he had read them at night, he would run his fingers across the parchment.

But he was wrong. He didn't read all the pages of her diary, he didn't read all of the memories they shared one time.

He had one more page to read.

And that's when Draco Malfoy took the page apart.


	3. her soul

OPHELIA DU PONT wondered how Draco was doing. She sat upon the soft clouds as rays of light shone against her, many would feel warm but she had felt nothing; perhaps it was because she had adapted to the heat the atmosphere held. Or maybe now that she was dead, she could feel nothing at all. Nonetheless, she felt at peace, no worries flooded her mind, she didn't have to remember to take her medicine, she didn't have to visit St. Mungos at certain times either. Her soul was still secured by her body, she died with the same one, but her soul felt younger than ever. As if it had rebirthed, but had not fully developed like a fetus in a mother's womb. She wanted to miss him, and wanted to see how her very first love was doing down there, where life held. Was he following her advice? Was he living life ?

She wondered. She didn't want him to be mourning, certainly people cried for her but she wished they had moved on and learned something from her analogies, or whatever simple to complex things she informed people on; whether it was about life, or silly things like joke shops or boys. She had hoped they had remembered her words, either spoken or written.

Her words.

Her diary.

Was her diary turned into ashes? Did Viola and Hannah read it? She knew Draco would either sell it, keep it, or burn it. She was confident Draco Malfoy had not sold it, it wouldn't make sense. Who would want to buy a diary of a dead girl who had little to no reputation at Hogwarts? She was only known by more people when she passed, did the diary matter then? Certainly not. Yet, something in her soul, whatever had developed within it, something told her Draco had kept the diary. He had read her words and thought about them, he had written back even though she would never be able to read what he had wrote. 

Ophelia wanted to cry, she wanted to read the letter he could have possibly written, but nothing poured out of her eyes, she sat there, smiling, waiting for his arrival so they could continue to make their own universe like she had told him. She was the sun, and he was the moon. When sunsets occur, the moon would take it's place and illuminate the earth, it introduced a repetitive, dependable cycle that helped the Earth survive or even live.

Only time could allow the moon to take over, and none of them knew when that would happen.

But she missed him, even if she couldn't feel it, her soul throbbed inside of her, there was no pain, she was just alone.

She wanted to hear him. Hear his voice one more time. Just once more.

A sudden cry for help emerged her ears. It was odd, she had never heard anything like it, yet she felt like she had to give some sort of assistance to whoever needed it. She almost felt responsible for the pain that person was experiencing, wherever they were.

Was it him?

No. It couldn't be. He was living.

She heard it again.

But he's living!

Open the book.

He's living... right?

Open the book Ophelia. Show Draco Malfoy the hidden page. 

Help him.

So she did.


	4. the ability to be

THE ABILITY TO BE;

Dear Draco Malfoy,

Fear is what we believe to never see

But how strong can our vision be?

To avoid the glances and the stares,

Of the obstacles that leave us in despair

Have the hope to see

To believe

That we can conquer our fears

For one who does not 

Does not have the ability 

To love, dream, succeed, fail

Or to simply care


	5. our fears

a/n: hi hi hi. please dont compare this to dd, thank you so much. :) enjoy the letter.

.

Dear Draco,

Fear is what we perceive to be frightening towards ourselves, whether it is bugs, or horror movies, heights, etc. Either way, they hurt us. Why must we compare our fears? It's a personal experience each one of us faces that affects us differently, we can't assume how others are feeling just because their fears aren't ours; we have to be open minded right? So when I learned about your fear, I promised myself I would do the same. 

I knew you were a death eater.

I know you're wondering, how? You wore full sleeves all the time and kept your body very reserved, how could I tell? That doesn't matter. But I know you fear being one, you might deny it at first so you don't seem as a coward but it's normal. Fear is normal too. I was just like you at first, telling myself repeatedly that death wasn't scary, it wouldn't be if I lived my life to the fullest. If I left the word with no regrets, I would die happily, peacefully in a tranquil manner. I still do agree those things make death seem far more tolerable. But what are the odds that someone like me, might have thought the opposite? 

Remember in St. Mungos, when you told me it was okay to be afraid? It was probably the most impactful thing you told me all year round. I have been bottling up myself for so long that my reaction were my eyes just flooding with tears. I'm scared to be alone when I die, I'm scared of where I am going to go when I leave this world, I'm scared of what will happen to my family as well as my friends, even Hogwarts itself. I'm scared, but it's okay, because you said it was okay.

We're okay. We always are. 

But you must not let fear get in your way, if you let your fears dominate you, your past and your future, how can you ever peacefully die? You will live with regrets, you will leave the world with blank stares and no sense of life. You will leave worthlessly. 

But the Draco Malfoy I know is none of those things. 

You are ambitious and cunning. Why else are you in Slytherin? No matter what, everything you do, you do for your own benefit, and you may not notice but others as well. Don't let a mark on your arm take that away from you. Don't lose to fear. I know it's hard. I know it laughs, torments, stares at you, but if you continue to listen to it, you will stick with something so hideous for eternity. The dark mark might be on your arm forever, but its soul will perish if you conquer your fears. If you learn what is best for you, if you defeat the dark auras that surround you. I know you aren't a bad person. I know you have done terrible things to other students but you, Draco Malfoy, are not a villian. You are a hero, my hero.

So do it for me Draco. We have a universe to tend. If you leave the world with fear and regrets, do you think our universe will become it's best? It's okay to have fear, but don't let it possess the abstract areas of your mind where you, and only you have control over it. 

When the sun dies, the moon shines. 

I don't know if you agree Draco. But I think it's true. Though I'm gone, I'm positive the light you have can illuminate the Earth without me as a temporary solution. It will always be night, but without the dark, we cannot see the stars. Though I will be physically gone soon, remember I'm always with you, after all the moon shines because of the sun. Don't let me go Draco when I'm gone. I will always be with you, even if I can't see you, I promise with all heart, my rays, that I will have a special home in you.

Do it for me Draco. But also, do it, for you.

I love you.

Ophelia.

ps- i dont know if you will find this page, but if you do, i hope you like the poem on the other side. took me five minutes.


	6. his tears

DRACO MALFOY CRIED, his tears had soiled the thin page that was covered in Ophelia's handwriting. Over and over, he scanned the words, but his eyes would keep falling upon the three towards the end. Everytime he saw them he couldn't help but wish he had told Ophelia he loved her too. He had written back to her, but she could never see the letter, and that hurt him the most. Yet, he felt as if she had came back and recited this to him; it felt so refreshing to read her words, even if her voice wasn't present, he read it as her but took it in as him. Tears dripped down his cheeks as drop after drop leaked from his lower lids, but the inked words didn't fade, they didn't smudge; they stayed the same. She was there. Somewhere in him, she was there, and he could feel it.

He knew what she meant, she explained everything so beautifully yet so literally that anyone in the right mindset could comprehend the advice she had given. It could help anyone, not just Draco. It would be selfish to keep this letter to himself, but maybe, just maybe, it was for the better. He wanted something of her, if it couldn't be her physical presence, he wanted to have the ability to cherish her words until he joined her. He wouldn't let her down. He wouldn't let fear take its role and scare others away, he would play the fighter. 

He had been griefing for a long time. But grief was the price he paid for love. 

He clutched the diary tightly into his hands. His knees were pulled close to his chest as his damp face burried into his knees, the diary underneath him suddenly held so much more meaning, so much more peace than it already had. He felt her soul connect with his, he felt her next to him. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, she told him, so why didn't he tell her? But he couldn't. The letter he wrote was written a week after her death, by then her soul was already taken away to somewhere ethereal, somewhere no one can imagine what it is like because it is so specific to their liking. It was her heaven, Draco wondered if it would be his too, after all they had a universe to develop and cherish.

It was impossible for her to know how much he loved her, how he wished to hold her, how he wished to kiss her at least once or just feel her warm skin against his. Oh, how he wished.

But the possibilities were endless. Nothing was impossible. If he had beaten fear like Ophelia said in the poem, he would succeed, fail, dream and simply care. So he promised himself. He promised Ophelia that he would dominate fear, no matter what.


	7. her eyes

OPHELIA WAS WATCHING him, he was crying over her diary. She couldn't cry, she didn't know how, no matter how hard she wanted to grief, or even scream, she couldn't. She watched him clutch the diary tightly, wiping his tears using the trousers that covered his knees. She wanted to touch him, hug him, hold him, but instead, she sat there on the clouds watching him from the glass windows of the Slytherin boys dormitory. His curtains that were attatched to his bed were closed, the only thing she was able to look through was the small peak that was open.

She watched him for a very long time. Where she was, nightfall never took place, so she couldn't tell when Draco Malfoy had gone to bed, so she stayed there until the other Slytherins came by, until candles lit the place she once called home, until Draco Malfoy had fallen asleep. She couldn't hear anything, yet she could sense soft, warm breaths coming her way, and she could smell a faint scent of citrus and mint she was so familiar with. It reminded her of their trip to France, the memory was an old one, but it was fresher than ever. 

She asked the voice why she could not see night.

"Draco is the moon. You will not see the dark or the stars until Draco is the moon."

But Draco was the moon, she was positive he already was. The way he cried at the letter, the way he looked at her worse as if they were riches, she knew he was he moon, and she knew she was the sun. Had he skipped over her words? The voice didn't answer, it was gone, she was heavily frantic; she needed her answers and was eager to know why Draco was not the moon. Was it because he wasn't dead yet? How longer would she have to experience the suns rays along with the warmth? She loved it, but the cold, dark, starry nights reminded her of him. And she wanted him.

Maybe Draco didn't realize he was the moon. Maybe he told himself, but maybe he was too afraid to accept the fact that he was the moon. She cradled herself back and forth until the clouds had hovered over her, creating a blanket to welcome her to sleep. But she didn't want to sleep, she wanted to keep watching, but the voice had declined her offer.

Yet, she was happy to see him. She once again could not feel it, but truly she was ecstatic. She wanted to cry, laugh, yell in the spite of hapiness but all she could do was stare. Her eyes were the only thing that had the ability to show emotion, they glimmered against the sun and her pupils would dialate when she saw him today. If anything, Draco Malfoy fell in love with her eyes. 

And she knew that his grey ones were full of bravery and hope, that he would be able to fight down his fears. Because fear was not only Draco's worst enemy, but Ophelia's as well.

After all, it was why Ophelia could not experience nightfall or see the stars, and it was also why Draco could not find warmth in the bright sunlight.


	8. the fight

THE FIGHT;

I fought within the crumbling walls,

Which side have I taken?

People like me, have ran through the dim halls

Which side have I taken?

I felt myself fight like no other time before,

Watching bodies pile up, more and more

Which side have I taken?

My darling,

Is that the question you please to ask?

For I have chosen the side that unites our souls

I have not chosen a side

For that would cost me too much pride,

I have chosen to win this war

Because I cannot lose you when we have made it this far


	9. his letter

THE VOICE ECHOED in her ears, she held the letter tightly in her hands as if it would blow away. Somehow, the letter was in her hands. Immediately, she could feel his presence around her, as if he had never left, or as if she had never died. She felt safe, she felt like she was at home, but most importantly she possessed his words, something she thought she could never have. The voice near her quieted down as she unfolded the thin piece of parchment that now revealed wrinkled spots where tears once fell, as well as bent corners as if someone was constantly pinching it over and over. But to her, it seemed good as new, as if her memories had renewed themselves, she wanted to feel emotion, but the voice said she couldn't. Why? Why couldn't she cry? Wasn't grief the price to pay for love? Nonetheless, she no longer asked herself nor the unidentified voice, instead she opened the letter, a cold breeze had rushed over her has she began to read his words.

(letter eleven from "when the sun dies")

Dear Ophelia,

It's been a week. A long one.

I kept your diary.

In fact I'm writing a letter to you right now. Isn't that weird? I know you would be surprised but too cocky to prove so.

But you're right. I am the moon.

You needed someone to lean on. You needed me. What once was dark, grey and cold, is now warm, and lit up, helping the night sky as well. You might think you haven't helped me at all—but you taught me more than I know. Every moment with you, I felt as if I was slowly falling into your arms; slowly falling into love.

I knew you felt the same way. But you didn't want me to become attached when you were gone. I hate that we couldn't be something more.

I also needed you. You taught me that life is better when you live it to the fullest, when you stop worrying about so many things and do what your heart tells you to do. Life isn't about our professions or our purpose, it's about the relationships we make, the choices we decide to fulfill, and what we mean to each other.

I never thought your analogies were silly. I didn't want to seem like I liked them. But now, I just want to tell you how much of a beautiful soul you are. How much fun I had with you, even if I didn't show it.

And I'm so glad, I helped you too. Even if it was temporary, I feel as if I have done something impactful for once.

You told me once you die, you wanted to be the star, the brightest one. But to me, you're still my sun, you are brighter than all the stars, you're giving, and much more. After all, the sun is also a star.

When the sun dies, the moon shines.

But truth is, you never died.

You're right here. In my heart. The moon can't shine without your rays.

So every sunset or sunrise there is, I'll be looking for you. And for the sake of our universe, be there for me too, alright?

I love you.

Love, Draco Malfoy

Then a miracle had happened.

She cried.

Tears streamed down her face as she yelled loudly. His letter was covered in tears but the words had not smudged nor had they faded. She held the letter to her chest, looking up to the sun and continued to cry happily. Immediately she felt cold breezes intertwine with the warm ones in her atmosphere and she felt herself become light. She cried and cried over and over, and didn't realize that she had the ability to laugh, cry, but mostly just express her feelings. He had loved her, now she knew and now he knew. 

"Draco..." She sobbed. "I love you too. I'm so glad you made it." 

The voice circled around her. Over and over. The voice that said "help him" to her mutiple times. The voice that allowed her to examine Draco and look at him for such limited amounts of time. The voice that had woken her subconcious, the voice that helped her open up the diary. The voice that helped her help him.

The voice was Draco. It was near her ear, one last time it whispered;

"I won the fight Ophelia. I won. Thank you for helping me."

All this time, Draco was here with her. 

For him, she was here with her words.

And for her, he was here with his voice.

That same night, another miracle happened.

Not only did nightfall and the stars take over.

But the moon did too. 

And it shined. 

Draco won the battle, he had killed his own fears.


	10. their universe

DRACO MALFOY WAS running in the rain as it poured down on his work attire, he had forgotten to bring an umbrella. He continued to run as the cars honked down the street, the walking signal counting it's final seconds down before the moving veichles would take over. He had made it in the last few seconds, and huffed, smiling a little at his success.

It was his twenty fourth birthday. Twenty four years. It may have seemed so long to one, but to him it felt like twelve. He smiled a little, as water dripped down his jawline, creating his own flood of tears. Continuing to run, he had finally stood under a tree, waiting for the heavy rainfall to calm down. It had been raining endlessly for days, and he was ashamed of himself for not being more prepared, yet he didn't focus on it too much, one little mistake didn't ruin his life. In fact, he admired the rain, though it sometimes extended for long periods of time in England, he saw the rain as an expression of missing someone or being missed. He would run in it if he could, but his electronic devices said otherwise.

Once the rain had decided to form into a drizzle, he had stepped out. Crowds sighed as people came out from nearby stores, glad that the rain had finally decided to come to a half-stop. Draco went to cross the street until he felt something small bump his leg.

"Wow!" Someone yelled behind him, a small child, he was pointing up at the sky, the grey clouds were parting as the blue sky took over. "I haven't seen the sun in so long mister!"

Draco followed his eyes, he was right. The sun was out, brighter than ever, he squinted at the light as everyone else looked up and cheered. No one had felt such warmth in so long. The sky reminded him of eyes. How the grey would disappear and welcome a warm blue.

His heart seemed to bloom. Immediately, water was evaporating from his soaked clothes, his hair turned dry as he watched the clouds disappear, welcoming the visible rays. When he looked around, everyone else was still heavily soaked by the rain water.

He felt warm.

"Wow mister. I swear you were soaked minutes ago." The boy looked at Draco up and down before running to his mother who was scolding him for talking to strangers.

But Draco Malfoy wasn't listening. He looked up and smiled, small tears escaping his eyes.

"You came." He smiled. "You really came."


End file.
